“She’s got courage, I’ll give her that,” said the captain in a loud voice, meant to carry.
“She’s got no heart,” objected one of his men. “Not like our—”
“Hush! Now get on with it.”
Mercifully, the rain slackened to a drizzle, and after about an hour’s work they were able to get wagons over the cut in the road. On they went. The wind cut through layers of damp clothing and only the endless trudging walk gave any warmth.
Late in the afternoon they came upon a village perched in a high valley as an eagle perches in its aerie. The villagers were tough, squat mountain people, and not even the presence of a royal princess could awe them. They demanded an exorbitant rent for the use of their stables. While Theophanu’s steward haggled, Rosvita found blessed shelter in the shed which Theophanu’s servants had commandeered for their mistress. It stank of mildew and pigeon droppings, but it was dry, and a fire burned merrily in the stone hearth.
“Sister Rosvita!” Theophanu was weathering the journey well, but she had her father’s stamina and rude good health. She has chosen her attendants—young noblewomen all—for the same qualities; they laughed, drank ale, and chatted as if they had just finished an exhilarating hunt instead of a struggle through a downpour on a dangerous road. “Sit next to the fire. Leoba, let the good sister take your stool for a while.”
Rosvita sat down gratefully and warmed her hands at the fire “You took a great risk today, Your Highness. I must advise against such—”
“Nay, Sister, do not take me to task. They don’t love me. If I fell to my death, half the men in this army would shrug their shoulders and then march on to Aosta and win the throne to hold in readiness for my brother. Have you heard about Captain Fulk and his men?”
“No, I have not. He’s a steady man.”
“So he is, and a loyal one.”
“I saw that today.”
Theophanu’s lips quirked up as at a joke only she knew. “Indeed. They came and pledged service to me—pledged service, I should add, because my brother Sanglant had told them to do so They offered to ride with him into exile, but he told them that where he meant to go they could not follow, and he bid then follow in my train until such time as he returned! It’s odd, though. They said there was another woman with him besides the Eagle. Do you know anything of that?”
“I do not! I heard the tale as everyone else did: that he and Liath rode off alone, no one knew where.”
“You may question the good captain if you wish. I’ll have him brought here.” She sent a servingwoman out into the drizzle.
The captain seemed grateful to stand by the fire while Rosvita asked him questions. He had observed that the woman was of noble rank, dressed in robes. “I thought she was a cleric, perhaps. And—well, I recall it now. The prince called her ‘Sister Anne’.”
“Sister Anne!”
They heard a shout at the door, and a moment later an Eagle crossed the threshold and knelt before the princess. He was wet through, even with a cloak tied over his shoulders, and his silver-white hair lay plastered against his head.
“Wolfhere!” exclaimed Rosvita, standing out of sheer surprise.
“My father’s favorite Eagle,” said Theophanu with a glint in her eyes. “What news do you bring us, Eagle? Where have you come from?”
“From Aosta.” He looked first at one, then the other. “But I am surprised to see you here, Your Highness. Sister Rosvita.”
“You thought to see my brother?” asked Theophanu. “He left the king’s progress in disgrace.”
Rosvita did not know Wolfhere, of course, but she knew of him; he had been a fixture of King Arnulf’s court, the kind of man people whispered about. No one knew why Arnulf favored him, but many guessed. When Henry had come to the throne and made it clear he was no longer welcome on the king’s progress, the rumors had only gotten worse. What secrets did he hold locked within him? He was only an Eagle, and yet for all that, he was not the kind of man one could simply ask such questions of.
His grimace now concealed more than it revealed. “What of Liath?”
“It seems everyone has an interest in her,” remarked Theophanu lightly. Her little court gathered closer to hear; even the youngest members of the king’s progress had heard gossip about the mysterious Wolfhere, a man whom the king hated but would not lift a hand against. “But I will take pity on you, Eagle. She left with Sanglant.”
“But where did they go?” he demanded.
